


just another tuesday

by neatmonster



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Failed Mission, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neatmonster/pseuds/neatmonster
Summary: Based on a dream I had, reader goes on a mission with Shane and Andrea.
Relationships: Shane Walsh/Reader, Shane Walsh/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	just another tuesday

All the walkers that were guarding the plumbing storage facility abandon the place following Glenn's flashy sports car. When they’re far enough and you can barely hear the siren, you pull up by the sealed doors with Shane and Andrea.

The three of you walk around the building, searching for an entrance, you spot a half-reachable small window at the back.

“Okay Walsh, hoist me up,” impetuous, you order him rolling your sleeves up and holstering your handgun.

His stare darts twice between you and the window. “You ain't goin' in there alone.”

“Watch me,” you dare him with a smirk before easing him up, “just wanna take a look first, okay?”

His head tilts, furrowing in disbelief, knowing the second you're up there he won't be able to stop you from getting inside the building.

“That right?” he says with a scoff.

While Andrea is on the lookout for walkers facing the other direction, Shane props his rifle on the wall and crouches under the window for you to drape your legs over his shoulders.

First, you lean to place a kiss at the crown of his head before swinging one leg and bracing yourself on the wall as he takes a firm hold on your thigh. You push your other feet up go over his other shoulder, planting your crotch at the back of his neck you get your body steady with your palms on the brick wall.

“Gotcha,” he tells you tensely, bouncing ever so slightly on his knees, ready to push you up to the opening.

Balancing both of you, he lifts you up at once with a sounded effort grunt at the back of his throat.  
You bite your lip, holding a laugh at the memory of that same sound he makes, just like that, every time he’s slipping inside you.

With one hand gripping the edge of the frame, you push open with some difficulty the dirty glass that was ajar to peak inside of what it looks like an office with old metal cabinets, a desk and a few chairs, all covered in dust, but not signs of the dead or the living.

Holding onto that frame with both of your hands now, you try pull yourself up and enter the small space.

His strong hold tightens on your limbs and his head vaguely shakes between your thighs.  
“Thought you said you were just peaking.” He furrows.

“C’mon, there’s no one here,” eyes going down at him, “I could enter and find a way to open that door.”

“No way in hell.”

“Look, there’s a desk right there, I can easily get to it without hurting myself,” you plead your case with him tsking his tongue.

“...we really need that water heater.” You tell him last.

He knows you do, it was actually his idea, as you were mapping the area you found this place weeks ago, the only reason you didn’t tackle it before it was cause it was still summer, now gas is lacking and those water tanks could be really useful come winter.

“C’mon, Walsh, I can do it.” You urge your boyfriend with a shy nudge of your boot on his waist.  
Unwillingly, he lets out a sight as he helps you get into that window. Easily, your feet fall into the desk, almost like a Lara Croft stunt, proud of yourself you let Shane know that you’re okay before exploring the space on the other side that door.

You eye all kinds of plumbing devices along the metal shelves, with your gun and a torch trained up before your eyes, you make your way to a lever that opens automatically the loading dock.  
There’s a rattle and a light squeak, your feet jump at the sound as you point your weapon to the floor to see a small rat running under a crate.

Taking a breath you welcome Shane, who enters the space casting a shadow on the floor over the light coming from the outside, lifting the dust from its dying space up to your nose, making you sneeze.

“Bless you, Darlin’.” He utters before giving you a quick kiss.

With him by your side, you take one of the dollies and roll it to the shelf you spotted before with the tank you needed.

Just as you two were lifting that thing to put on the dolly cart, you hear Andrea’s gun going off and her yelling for help.

You both quickly put the thing down and run to the entrance, that gets crowded with rotters just in seconds. When you get closer, you both stop to aid her from your position. As some of those things are quickly put down, Shane circles around to the other side as one of Andrea’s bullets, that was meant for a rotter, hits him on the head.

He plummets to the ground, mist of blood splatting the dust clear as day, and the sound you make as you see him go down, thinking he’s dead for sure, draws all the attention of the horde to you.

You don’t care, you just run shooting left and right every walker on your way to his body, with tears pouring out your eyes, your heart stops the second you see him moving slowly on the concrete, pulling himself up.

Ears ringing, he winces, blindly reaching for his rifle laying next to him.

There’s no time to check on him, but he’s dizzy alright- you just help him up, strapping his rifle on your shoulder and looping an arm around his waist to keep him up as much as you can, as you guide him to the car, taking a few more walkers in your way.

“I’m sorry,” Andrea winces as you pass by her with a killing stare.

She covers your back while you get Shane safely to the car, “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he repeats to you as he ducks his head, taking the back seat.

You signal Andrea to get behind the wheel, and you bolt empty handed.

Straddling his legs, you sit on his lap, framing his face and tilting it to the side to check the bullet graze right above his ear, “too bad she didn’t notch a chunk of that ridiculous big ear of yous,” you quip, quickly ripping a piece of your sleeve to apply pressure on the wound.

“I’m so sorry.” Andrea repeats, eyeing the two of you in the rear view mirror.

“Rookie mistake.” He mumbles writing it off as such.

Getting back some movement on his arm, he spanks your ass at your remark.

“I heard that.”


End file.
